To Be Spock'd
by stanzaic
Summary: -"Are we sure this isn't just a very strange dream?" "Believe me man, I wish it was."


**A/N:** I shall warn you that this is not a Morgan/Reid fic, so sorry if you came here for that. :P Anyway, this idea randomly occurred to me, and I'm really not even sure why. Oh well! Kindly review and let me know what you thought! :)

**Disclaimer:** Most unfortunately, I don't own _Criminal Minds_.

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><p>It was way too damn early to be awake, but he considered his job for a moment and decided that it was really a normal day after all. Derek Morgan blinked sleepily as he drove toward Spencer Reid's apartment building, wondering rather angrily about why Reid wasn't picking up his phone. The nerd wasn't even picking up the freakin' landline.<p>

Morgan yawned widely as he pulled into the parking lot beside the apartment building, his dark eyes watering. Why did this job have to fall to him? Why couldn't someone else live closer to Reid? Why couldn't Reid just pick up his damn phone!

He struggled out of his car and stumbled toward the building. Morgan reflected that it was probably locked before trying the door – miraculously, although it was locked, somebody happened to be passing at the moment Morgan approached the glass door. Morgan knocked on the door hard, and the man walked over to open it. "What's your problem, dude?" Morgan attributed the odd way the guy looked at him – as though he had two extra heads – to the earliness of the hour.

"Sorry, man," Morgan said, still rather groggy. "I have to get a guy I know – work."

"You got a shitty job," the man informed Morgan before trundling off. Morgan sighed. Yes, at the moment the job did, in fact, seem quite shitty, but whenever they managed to save a possible victim, the job seemed much better. Then it got shitty again.

Morgan hurried to the elevator and slammed his fist against the call button. It seemed to take a thousand years for the doors to slide open, and then it took a thousand more for Morgan to reach the fifth floor. Finally Morgan approached apartment number 503, his anger stewing mercilessly into rage.

He opened his mouth to yell at Reid through the door before remembering that Reid had neighbors. Morgan sighed and pounded on the door instead, waiting for the nerd to wake up.

Morgan paused after banging on the door for a good full minute, his fist aching. He waited irritably for a moment before pressing his ear against the door, wondering what the hell was taking Reid so long. With his ear pressed against the door he rather felt like an idiot, but he thought listening could at least give him a clue as to what Reid was doing in there. What could possibly be more important than answering the phone in the middle of the night?

Suddenly a loud blasting sound came out of nowhere. Morgan jumped back from the door, reflexively reaching for his gun – then he realized with an enormous amount of relief that the sound was muffled, meaning it was probably the television. What was Reid doing, having a random _Star Trek_ marathon?

"Beam us up, Scotty!" It must've been another from the television, as Morgan didn't recognize the voice and he also knew the line because it was so stupidly famous. What was so epic about it, anyway? Morgan clenched his jaw hard, withdrawing once again from the door; but this time he banged his other fist against the door, his rage building to horrific proportions.

"See," came Reid's voice, floating under the door and to Morgan's attentive ears, "Spock never literally said _beam me up, Scotty!_ As you can see the closest he ever got to saying that was what he just said -"

Before Morgan could wonder who the hell Reid was even talking to, Reid was cut off. It was a long moment before he heard Reid's voice again. "Uh, I, uh, I assume you're not even listening?"

Morgan had had quite enough. "YO, REID!" he roared at the door, punctuating his bellow with hard hammering on the part of his fist. Finally, he heard the TV stop making white noise in the background; then he heard the sound of the chain being removed, and the door opened. Reid stood there for a second staring at Morgan, his puppy-dog eyes wide with confusion. Morgan stared right back. Reid looked awfully messy to have been sitting up watching _Star Trek_ by himself. He was actually wearing his old glasses instead of his contacts. And were his pajama pants decorated with…images of…Spock himself? Good God, Morgan didn't even want to know.

"Reid," said Morgan angrily, "what the _hell_ have you been doing? We all called you about forty trillion times on your cell and on your landline -"

Morgan stopped and made a choking sound. Reid tilted his head slightly to the right, eyebrows scrunching together for another confused puppy-dog look. Somebody had appeared in the background behind Reid, just barely visible to Morgan – and it was, of all things, a _girl_! She had wickedly curly blonde hair, glasses that almost matched Reid's, emerald-green eyes, and she was outfitted in a completely Spock'd pajama combination. Morgan wasn't sure whether to laugh or puke.

"Who's this?" the girl asked Reid. Reid turned around and turned a delicate shade of pink. Before Reid could answer, the girl looked at Morgan and said: "Hey, I'm Tory. What's goin' on?"

Morgan opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before managing to speak. "I'm Derek Morgan, and your, uh -" Morgan struggled for a word to describe Tory's relationship with Reid, as he had no idea what it was.

"Boyfriend," Tory happily submitted.

Morgan had to fight over that one before continuing. "Yeah, your…boyfriend…he's supposed to come to work, it's an urgent case. He seems to have a habit of ignoring his multiple phones."

Reid grimaced. "Could I get dressed?"

"What's wrong with what you're wearing?" Morgan couldn't help himself. He eyed Reid's pants again, still unsure of what his reaction to them ought to be. He decided that since he hadn't eaten anything since dinner it would be more appropriate to laugh rather than vomit. So he said cheerfully: "Reid, man, you have _Spock's head_ on your pants." And he laughed.

Reid's face changed from pink to beet red. "Hey," he said defensively, "I was not planning on getting interrupted." He turned back toward Tory, who looked like she wanted to snicker as well. Morgan wanted to ask her why, considering her outfit was just as bad. "You don't mind, do you?"

"I totally mind," Tory said. It took Morgan a minute to realize she was kidding, and it took Tory smiling for Reid to realize the same thing. "Nah, it's cool. Gotta say though, your job is…"

"…shitty?" Morgan inserted helpfully.

Tory frowned approvingly. "Yeah, that works." Reid shook his head and retreated back into his apartment. Morgan watched his friend go; Reid's white undershirt was like a beacon in the dim light.

"He's ridiculous," said Morgan matter-of-factly before he remembered that Tory was wearing a Spock'd outfit as well. But Tory only grinned good-naturedly.

"We've all had our ridiculousness," she said lightly. "I mean, look at yourself. I think this is a little too early for you to be wandering around."

Morgan raised his eyebrows and followed Tory's gaze. When he looked down and realized that he was wearing his own plaid pajama pants with his white Oxford and tie, he looked up at the ceiling overhead and said quite loudly, "Damn."

Reid reappeared in the doorway. "Tory, you can stay overnight, okay? I'll probably see you sometime tomorrow. You have to finish watching this episode, it's the best -"

Tory interrupted him quite rudely by kissing him smack on the lips. "See you tomorrow, Wonderboy." She patted him on the shoulder and waved at the pair of them before disappearing back into Reid's apartment. Morgan looked at Reid for a couple of seconds, wondering how Reid ended up with an interrupter of all possibilities; then again, it was a little obvious by Reid's expression that he didn't mind all the interruptions.

Reid closed the door and locked it before turning to face Morgan. "Are we sure this isn't just a very strange dream?"

Morgan looked down at his pants, knowing that they'd have to go all the way back to his place before heading to the BAU. He also knew the loveliness he would get there from Mr. Always Punctual, Hotch. "Believe me man, I wish it was."


End file.
